“You know what’s sad about reading books? It’s that you fall in love with the characters. They grow on you. And as you read, you start to feel what they feel - all of them - you become them. And when you’re done, you’re never the same. Sure you’re still you, you look the same, talk in the same manner, but something in you has changed. Something in the way you think, the way you choose, sometimes, even the things you say may differ. But it all comes down to the state you go to after a nice novel. The after-feeling. It’s amazing, but somehow, you feel left alone by that world you were once in. It’s overwhelming. But it makes you sad. Cause for once you were this, this otherworldly being in… Neverwhere, and then you suddenly have to say goodbye after a few weeks from when you read the last page. When you’ve recovered from that state it’s just… quite sad.” -Suzanne Collins

The Terrible Fall

The night was black, the owl did call,
I stood upon the silo tall,
Never suspecting I would fall...
Thanks to the boy who bumped me.


Though frightened, I had stayed alert, 
No thoughtless slumberings did divert me
from my task 'till I got hurt...  
Thanks to the boy who bumped me... 

A poem by Constance Contraire on The Mysterious Benedict Society #2: Perilous Journey. I like this poem.  Very. Freaking. Much. If only my school gave me these poems to study. Instead of the boring one. Oh, I hope Constance DOES exist.